


Genesis

by theamateurexpert



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham Knight Genesis (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Expansion, Domestic Violence, Drug Use, Emotional Abuse, Gen, Hurt, Jason Todd has had a rough life, Physical Abuse, This is pretty heavy stuff, Underage Drinking, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 04:05:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14662929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theamateurexpert/pseuds/theamateurexpert
Summary: An expansion of the first chapter of the Batman: Arkham Knight Genesis comic, elaborating on Jason's early life before he became Robin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! Recently, I've been heavily invested in the Arkham Knight Genesis backstory for Jason, and wanted to incorporate it into a couple of the fics I'm planning.
> 
> He gets a bit of an origin story in the first chapter of the comic and it's brief, but FULL of details and I've been desperately wanting more about it...so I wrote it. Some of the plot and dialogue is pulled DIRECTLY from the comic, then built around. However, a lot of this is content I've speculated on, keeping the original story in mind. It's not necessary to have read the comic before reading this, but I do think it ties in nicely, if you're so inclined!
> 
> This is not a happy piece by any means (please check tags before you read!), but I do find the content of the comic interesting and think it's crucial to Jason's character. 
> 
> Thank you guys, and I hope you enjoy! As much as you can. It's pretty heartbreaking, gotta say.

With his back pressed up against a lamp post and blood running from his nose, Willis looked down to the small, squirming child in his arms.

His son.

His son, who was supposed to make all his problems go away in an instant, but now, was a complication and another mouth to feed.

Willis spat out blood, and wiped his lip with the blanket that swaddled the baby.

What a mess.

He pushed off the ground with one hand, wobbling as he stood. Maroni hadn’t held back at all, and Willis had to fight the urge to vomit right there in the street. 

It wouldn’t have been the first time.

He stumbled his way through Gotham, then eventually, back up to the rooftop where he had left the mother of his child. 

Cathy rested against the brick wall with her eyes closed, chest rising and falling in deep breaths. She looked so calm and carefree in that moment. It made Willis wish they could go back to when they had first met.

As he got closer, Cathy’s eyes opened slightly, but when she caught sight of what he carried in his arms, they grew wide, then furious.

“Willis,” she said coldly, face contorting in anger, “What the _hell_ happened?”

“I got us a few days--” he passed the bundle to her roughly, happy to be free of the weight. “They didn’t want the damn baby!”

When she scoffed and looked away, he growled and threw his arms up in the air, “What’re we gonna do, Cath? What the hell are we gonna do?!”

She stared down at the small life in her hands. She had carried him for nine months, but the only thing she felt was contempt. 

He’d been a pain in the ass since day one.

“I don’t know,” she started, sighing deeply, “It’s the gravity of this place, baby. We ain’t ever going to escape it.”

Willis threw his fist into the wall, and knocked his head against it, swearing loudly. In Cathy’s arms, the baby thrashed and let out a loud, pathetic cry of his own, echoing his father. She swore and rocked him harshly, only making him sob louder.

“Goddamn kid…” she muttered through gritted teeth.

After a minute of brusque bouncing, the baby seemed to calm down. He continued to cry, but not as loudly.

When Willis stayed where he was, Cathy turned to him, frowning. “Look, Will, we can’t take him with us. He’s too loud, he’s _too_ \--I’m not gonna carry him all over the place.” 

She looked down again, gently slapping at her son’s face, “We should just dump him.”

“We can’t do that,” Willis mumbled, head still resting against the wall.

Cathy managed to stand, and moved the baby to one arm, reaching out to Willis with the other. “Come on, Will, you talked about that screwy doctor, down in the East End. Maybe we could--”

“Goddammit, did you hear what I said?” Willis bellowed, slapping her hand away, “We _can’t!_ I tried to give the kid to Maroni, and he said Falcone wouldn’t take it.”

He ran his hands over his face. “He knows we got it now. And if we suddenly _don’t_ got it…” He shook his head and laughed coarsely. “These mobsters run around gunning people down, doing whatever they please, but the second you hurt a kid? They’re on the side of the angels.”

Silence fell between the two.

Cathy spoke again, strain evident in her voice, “Then what are we gonna do, baby?”

Willis shook his head. “I don't know.”

“We better figure it out quick,” she replied, staring down at the baby in her arms.

“Something’ll come along,” Willis mumbled. He followed Cathy’s gaze, and laughed, “Not even around a day, and this kid already looks like shit.”

Cathy let out a wheezing laugh, “He does, doesn't he?”

She broke out into a coughing fit, and passed the baby over to Willis, who lifted him up and looked him over, “Guess we have to name him, huh?”

“Let’s clean ya’ up first,” Cathy replied, reaching for one of the cold rags that was the least dry, “Not like he’s gonna know.”

“Yeah,” Willis grumbled, taking a seat on the ground and laying the baby down next to him.

Cathy knelt down and began to wipe at Willis’ face. 

Their son began to wail again, but neither of them moved to pick him up.

From below, the din of the city rose and muffled his cries of desperation, leaving them unheard by anyone, and ignored the two people who had brought him into the world that night.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As the sun started to rise over the city, Willis stirred, and found Cathy already awake and cradling their son in her arms.

She caught Willis’ eye and sighed. “He was shivering. It ain’t even that cold out…”

Willis ran a hand over his face. “You think of a name for him yet?”

Cathy looked down, frowning. “What was your cousin’s name? The one who puked all wedding reception?”

“Jason?” Willis huffed. “Guy’s a loser.”

“He is,” Cathy agreed, looking the baby over. “It’s a nice name though.” 

She turned to Willis, “unless you got any ideas?”

Willis shrugged and he stood up. “It’s fine. Fits.” 

He stretched, and made his way over to edge, watching the people that were already bustling about, starting their day.

Cathy broke the silence between them. “What are you gonna do about the money? We gotta come up with something, Willis.”

He didn’t want to talk about it, but she was right.

“I can go see Vinny,” Willis said in a low, flat voice. “Maybe he can spot us some cash, and I can get the rest pullin’ a few jobs here and there.”

Cathy shook her head. “Vinny’s a bum. He’s gonna make you pay ten times what he gives ya.”

Willis turned to her, snapping, “You think I don’t know that? What the hell else am I supposed to do, huh? Are _you_ gonna go out and get the cash?”

Jason wailed in his mother’s arms, starting to thrash about.

Cathy glared daggers at Willis. “Ain’t that great? He _finally_ shut up, and you get him started again...”

“Who gives a shit?” Willis bellowed, stalking towards the two. “If we don’t get Falcone’s money to Maroni, we’re all _dead_ , you dumb bitch!”

Cathy scrambled up, keeping a loose grip on Jason as she stood, “You get the hell away from me! This is _your_ fuckin’ mess, Willis, and you need to get it taken care of!”

“I’m tryin’!” he screamed, shaking in rage as he threw his hands up in the air.

“Try. Harder!” Cathy shrieked back, shifting Jason to one side and shoving Willis with her free hand.

He stumbled back, but abruptly caught himself, then advanced on Cathy, drawing his hand back to strike her. She quickly drew Jason to her chest, firmly wrapping her arms around him and moving him away from her husband’s blow. 

The movement made Willis stop mid-step, and he settled on grabbing her face instead, forcing her to look at him. “I’m gonna fix this, alright? But don’t you _dare_ tell me to work harder, while you’re just sittin’ there on your ass, crying and complaining about everything.”

“Screw you,” Cathy spat back, pulling her chin from his grip. “I only kept the kid because you thought he was going to fix this. I wanted him gone, _months_ ago.”

“I know, I know!” he groaned, waving her off as he turned to walk away, “Just shut the fuck _up_ about it, already, Cath. You sound like a goddamn broken record...”

She screamed in rage, scooping up an empty juice bottle and hurling it toward Willis.

The hard plastic made a hollow, “ _whump_ ” sound as it hit the ground next to him, and he spun around. 

“What the fuck’s the matter with ya?!”

“Get the _fuck_ outta here!” she cried, still clutching Jason to her chest.

Willis pointed his finger at her, jaw rigged and strained, “You say one more goddamn word. _Make_ me come over there, and I’ll shut you up _for good_.”

Cathy swallowed hard and looked down, furious tears brimming her eyes. Jason was already looking up at her, sobbing and trying to lift his frail arms.

“That’s what I thought,” Willis said coldly, walking away. 

He stopped at the stairway door, staring ahead as he called back to her, “You better be back here tonight if you want something to eat.” He opened the door and disappeared behind it.

Alone on the roof, Cathy ran her hand over Jason’s cheek, wiping away one of her fallen tears.

Jason quieted a little, cooing softly as he weakly wobbled his head. Cathy laughed mournfully and looked away, unable to face the life she held in her arms.

She made her way over to the wall, sliding down, and sitting against it. Jason made a soft noise, and she lifted her head to the sky as another tear slid down her cheek.

“What the hell are we gonna do?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following weeks, Willis managed to pay Falcone back, by incurring a whole new score of unpaid debts through a series of deals with Gotham’s less reputable loan sharks.

It was a better situation, but far from ideal. 

As a result, the first several years of Jason's life were spent moving wherever his parents could find a place to hole up. More often than not, it meant abandoned buildings, rooftops, and sometimes a run down bus station that the cops didn’t bother to patrol.

There wasn't much for Jason to remember from those days, but every now and then, he still had dreams of the hazy Gotham night sky above, with his parents laying beside him. 

During the summer of Jason’s fourth birthday, there was a major takeover among Gotham’s major crime families. Throughout it all, the Todds managed to stay on the run, avoiding shootouts and the various people Willis owed money to.

One night, they awoke to the shouts of gunfire and car horns, and uprooted right then and there. It was easy enough, as they didn’t have much, but Jason vaguely remembered how terrifying it had been. Nights like that grew more frequent, until the series of violent and bloody conflicts throughout the city’s underworld seemed to come to a halt, resulting in Salvatore Maroni overthrowing the long-standing head of organized crime, Carmine Falcone. 

Once the dust settled, and Maroni had dealt with his bigger concerns, he put word out to the streets that anyone who had owed money under Falcone could consider their debts wiped away, so long as they came to Maroni and pledged loyalty to him. 

Desperate and exhausted, Willis went to Maroni to ask for a clean slate and, for the sake of his wife and child, Maroni allowed it. But he made it clear how little he cared for Willis and warned him to stay in line. 

Then, just like that, for the first time in Jason’s life, he had a home. 

It was a decrepit old thing, with boarded windows and peeling paint, down in the abandoned part of the Gotham underground that had been built over, but it was a home. Cops didn’t spend more time down there then they had to, so it made it easy to slip in and out, without getting caught. 

After a few years there, Jason grew bolder. At first, he was scared to go out alone, but quickly realized that it wasn’t any worse than being at home.

It was freeing, really. 

A couple times, he walked out the front door, by himself, and when his parents didn’t stop him, he wandered for hours, until his feet were sore and his stomach growled. 

Food was always scarce, but his father managed to keep bringing it home for them, even if it was meager and just enough for a day or two. Jason only made the mistake of taking more than he was given once.

One night, he took a box of crackers from the kitchen and when Willis found out, he pulled Jason from his room and threw him down the stairs. 

His parents screamed at each other in the living room, while he cradled his arm against himself on the front porch, hiding behind the railing. 

It hurt so _bad_.

Slamming the door behind him, Willis pulled Jason up, told him to stop crying, and they walked to the main part of the city in silence. 

After a while, they reached an old looking shop with glowing signs in the windows. Jason couldn’t read what they said, but among them he saw a neon dollar sign. He knew what that was.

Willis banged on the door, until a short, angry-looking man opened the door. He looked both of them over, before turning to Willis. “What the _hell_ is this, Todd?”

“Kid hurt his arm. My wife wants to make sure it ain’t broken,” Willis answered, glancing over his shoulder, then back to the man.

The man opened the door and gestured them in, pointing to a door at the back of the shop, “Through there, then back where it says “Employees Only”. Lemme see if I can get a hold of Frankie.”

Willis pushed Jason to move forward, then the man grabbed Willis by the shirt, “How much you got on you right now?”

Jason stopped and turned back to his dad, who saw him and furiously pointed to the door. Jason went ahead, grinding his teeth and grabbing to support his arm.

Willis turned back and sighed. “I got nothing. Still have to see Maroni. Come on, Beck. Kid’s arm might be broken, and my wife just screamed at me about it for an hour. Just--” he looked over to Jason, then back to Beck, “--Just get your guy to look him over, and I’ll get the money to you later.”

Beck shook his head, “You’re lucky it’s your kid and not you. Get back there and wait for me. I’ll try Frankie.”

Willis gave a nod of thanks, then headed over to open the door, ushering Jason through. 

It seemed like they waited for hours before the door opened again, and a new face appeared. The younger man was dressed in a very nice suit and overcoat, not something Jason saw often. He introduced himself as “Francesco”, but told Jason that he could call him “Frankie”, if that was easier. 

Francesco looked over Jason’s arm, and when he felt the bone, Jason cried out, and Francesco shook his head.

“It’s definitely broken,” he said to Willis. “You should take him to a hospital.”

“Can’t do that,” Willis replied quickly, scratching his jaw, “We’re laying low and pulling for Maroni. Unless you got a place that won’t ask questions.”

Francesco sighed and grabbed his bag, pulling a few items from it. “I can make something temporary for him, but if you don’t get it properly treated, it’s not going to heal right.”

“Okay, okay, just do it already,” Willis snapped impatiently.

Francesco gave Willis a look, but began working on patching up Jason’s arm. As he pulled out the wrapping, he gave Jason a small, warm smile, “What’s your name?”

Jason looked to Willis, and Willis nodded towards Francesco. “Answer him.”

Jason looked down as he spoke, not making eye contact, “Jason.”

Francesco watched the exchange with concern, but returned his focus to his work. After a few minutes of silence, Francesco spoke again, “How old are you, Jason?”

“Seven,” Jason answered softly, wincing as Francesco held his arm to begin splinting it. 

“Seven, huh?” Francesco looked up at Jason, trying to be as delicate as he could be, “You’re in school?”

Jason shook his head quickly. “Don’t go to school.”

Francesco nodded, continuing to brace Jason’s arm. “My little girl, Sophie. She goes to school. Likes it a lot. Do you think you’d like to go to school?”

Jason hurriedly looked to Willis, who scowled, but said nothing.

Jason looked away. “I don’t think I’d like school.”

“You should try it,” Francesco insisted, wrapping Jason’s arm up and securing it in place.

“Are you done yet?” Willis cut in, moving forward.

“For now, but you should really take him to a hospit--”

“Yeah, yeah, got it. Tell Beck what I owe ya,” Willis grabbed Jason’s uninjured arm and directed him out the door. 

On the way out, Willis gave a curt nod to Beck, who returned it, before looking back down the paperwork on his desk.

Outside, Willis turned his attention to Jason, “You’re not going to school. It’s a damn waste of time, and it ain’t like you’re gonna do anything with it.”

Jason nodded and looked to the ground as they walked.

“You’ve always been a loser, and you’re always gonna be a loser,” Willis said flatly, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it up while they waited to cross.

Jason said nothing, but watched the cars moving by, focusing on them, instead of his father’s words.

“Hey, you listenin’ to me?” Willis asked, slapping the back of Jason’s head.

Jason nodded, but kept his eyes on the cars. 

“Now, if some idiot asks you what happened, you tell ‘em that you fell out of a tree,” Willis took a drag of his cigarette. The cars passed, and Willis slapped Jason’s shoulder, urging him forward. 

As they got closer to the house, Willis sent Jason ahead by himself, while he stayed out front and finished smoking.

Jason went in and saw his mom passed out on the couch, with a needle laying on the ground beside her. He walked up the steps, slowly, so he didn’t wake her. Or jar his arm any more than he had to. 

Once he was in his room, he moved to the corner where he kept his blanket and pillows. 

No matter how he tried to lie down, his arm throbbed in pain, and his stomach growled. He let out a soft sob, wishing he could just go to sleep. 

He stared at the dull orange light that filtered through the shabby blinds of his window, and tears spilled down his cheek. He heard the door creek open from downstairs, and within a few minutes, he heard a muffled argument break out. 

It seemed like hours, but the sound eventually subsided, and Jason managed to find a position that wasn’t excruciating. 

He closed his eyes and wiped away the tears with his good arm, then wrapped it around one of his pillows.

As he drifted off to sleep, Jason breathed steadily and hoped that he would dream of a better life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! I was aiming for three parts for this fic, but after deliberating a WHILE on this chapter, I decided to make it four parts instead.
> 
> Enjoy!

Any time Jason had been injured, the pain seemed to fade after a couple days, but his arm hurt just as bad as the night it was broken.

It had only been a week, but Jason could _swear_ it had been a month. The sharp throbbing kept him up most nights, and when he did sleep, it wasn’t for long.

As faint morning light seeped through Jason’s window, he heard a knock from downstairs cut through the silence. He stirred slightly, but when he heard it again, he scrambled to stand up, gingerly cradling his arm as he went to investigate.

By the time he got to the top of the stairs, Willis was already at the door, opening it slightly, with his revolver in the other hand. Jason couldn’t see who was outside, but after a few exchanged words, Willis stepped aside and was followed by Francesco.

When he caught sight of Jason, Francesco waved and smiled somberly. Jason shrunk behind the stair post, only peeking out when Willis lead Francesco to the other room. 

Not many people came to see Willis at the house, and when they did, it usually meant something interesting was happening. 

Jason carefully scooted down the stairs, grabbing ahold of the rickety wood banisters as he went. Before he got to the bottom, Jason heard his dad ask, “So what’s this about?”

Jason froze a couple stairs up, listening in.

“It’s about Jason.”

“What about him?”

“He needs more than what you’re providing for him.”

Willis scoffed, and Jason could _hear_ how pissed he already was. “He ain’t your kid. Ain’t your problem.”

“That may be so, but you’re going to listen to what I have to say. Your wife and son should too.”

“Don’t you start ordering me around in my own house-”

“Just call them in, Willis. It’ll be quick.”

Jason heard a soft sound to his side and jumped when he saw his mom leaning against the downstairs wall, also listening in. Their eyes met as Willis mumbled something nasty sounding, then called out, “Cath. Jason. Get in here.”

Cathy looked at Jason and motioned to the room, before going in herself. Jason followed behind tentatively. 

Francesco sat on a chair across from the couch where Willis sat. Cathy took a seat next to her husband, but Jason continued to stand in the entryway, holding his arm.

Suddenly, everyone’s eyes were on him and Jason felt a horrible twist in his stomach. 

“What _is_ this about?” Cathy asked.

Francesco moved to the edge of his seat, “Would you like to sit, Jason?”

Jason shook his head fervently, and Francesco gave him the same, sad smile. “Alright, then.”

Francesco turned his attention to Willis and Cathy, “Jason’s starting school on Monday.”

Alarmed, Jason turned to his parents for confirmation, but their attention was focused on Francesco.

Willis was the first to speak, “Like _hell_ he is.”

“He ain’t signed up or nothin’,” Cathy added, crossing her arms and scowling.

“He is,” Francesco replied immediately, with a calm, unwavering expression. “Sal Maroni allowed me to make arrangements on his behalf, to give your son an education. Everything’s been arranged, all _you_ have to do is make sure he gets there and back each day.”

Jason’s parents exchanged looks to one another, and Cathy shook her head, prompting Willis to stand and face Francesco. Jason took a step back, recognizing his father’s rage.

“Look. I don’t care how close you are with Maroni, but you don’t get to come in here and tell me what to do.”

Francesco remained seated, but met Willis’ eyes. “It’s a good opportunity for Jason. He’ll be in class most of the day, with peers his own age, and receive two meals--which you won’t have to pay for.”

“I don’t like it,” Cathy muttered to Willis, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

Willis nodded in agreement.

“I’m sure you don’t,” Francesco sighed. “But all you have to do is walk your son to and from the school. That’s it. The rest has been taken care of.”

“This gettin’ tacked on to what I owe Maroni?” Willis asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Not at all,” Francesco assured. “This was my favor to ask.”

“Why are you messin’ in business that ain’t yours?” Cathy demanded, still scowling from the couch.

Francesco looked between Cathy and Willis. “Because Jason deserves a chance to learn and grow.”

Jason swallowed hard and looked away when Francesco turned to him.

After a minute, Willis cleared his throat, cutting through the silence. “And if we don’t do it?” 

Francesco furrowed his brow as he stood to meet Willis’ gaze , “You’d _really_ deny your son this opportunity?”

Willis took a step toward Francesco, “Look, you _prick_. Our business is ours, and I don’t need you telling me what to do. I got my own shit to worry about--I ain’t gonna run around playing nanny!”

Francesco lunged forward to grab Willis by the front of his shirt, yelling, “This is your son’s _future_ , you scum! He can make somethin’ of himself and turn out better than you!”

Cathy scrambled up, grabbing Francesco’s arm, “Get off’a him, you sonovabitch!!”

“Shut up, Cath!” Willis bellowed, shoving her back onto the couch.

Francesco quickly released Willis and turned to try and catch Cathy. Willis took the opportunity to take a swing.

Francesco was to slow to react, and the blow connected loudly, sending him stumbling back into the couch as Cathy moved out of the way.

Once he collected himself, Francesco rose up again, breathing heavily. He furiously pointed to Willis. “You want to know what happens if you don’t take him? I’ll make _sure_ Maroni knows, and you’ll be getting much worse visitors than _me_. I promise you _that_.”

Willis weighed Francesco’s words carefully, as they all caught their breath and settled. 

After a long sigh, he spoke again, “So all I do is get him to school?”

“And back,” Francesco added, not looking away from Willis.

Willis waved dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, and back, got it. But that’s it?”

“That’s it,” Francesco confirmed.

“Fine,” Willis conceded, glancing over to Jason, then back at Francesco. “Now, get out.”

Francesco nodded, then turned to Jason, taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry, Jason. It wasn’t supposed to be like this…”

Jason stared up and said nothing.

Willis cleared his throat, nodding to the front door.

“Yes, fine,” Francesco said sharply, making his way to the entrance. Before he opened the door, he turned back, “Oh, and one last thing: some colleagues of mine will be by later.” He gestured to the arm Jason was still holding. “It’s about time that got properly fixed up.”

Before either Willis or Cathy could say anything, Francesco nodded and left.

Silence fell over the room, and when no one stopped him, Jason walked out slowly and climbed the stairs to his room, his chest feeling a little lighter.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A couple days after Jason’s arm had been better mended and set in a cast, Francesco stopped by and dropped off brand new school supplies and clothes for Jason, making sure he was prepared for school.

The morning of his first day, Jason’s stomach did backflips as he stood in front of the old brick building, but he was eager to see what the day brought. 

Willis checked his wrist watch and scoffed, “Where the hell’s this teacher of yours?”

“I dunno,” Jason answered softly, looking down to the ground, and holding onto the strap of his bookbag with his good hand.

Willis shook his head, and rolled his eyes. “I _know_ you don’t know. Jesus.”

Jason nodded and focused his attention on the fibrous texture of his arm cast. He ran his fingers along the bumps until he heard his dad speak.

“You his teacher?”

Jason looked up and saw a young woman approaching, wearing a plain, but nice outfit. 

She smiled warmly. “Is this Jason?”

Jason took a step forward, nodding, and Willis confirmed as well. 

“Then I am, indeed, his teacher,” she said. “I’ll take him from here, Mr. Todd. And we’ll see you at 3:30.”

Willis grunted in acknowledgement and set off in a hurry. The woman reached out to Jason, gently taking his hand.

“Well, Jason. Let’s take a look at the school.”

Jason followed behind her, and it didn’t take long for him to realize that he might enjoy school after all. 

As they walked, she introduced herself as Ms. Brivio. She showed Jason the classroom that they’d be sharing, and told him a little bit about the classwork. Then, she gave him the tour of the rest of the building, explaining the activities he’d participate in, outside of the classroom. 

Jason didn’t know what half of it meant, but it was exciting, nonetheless. He honestly hadn’t been more excited for anything in his life.

Then they got to the lunchroom. 

She helped him grab a tray and pick up an item from each station, and by the end, he had a small container of french toast, an orange, yogurt, and a carton of milk. 

Hesitantly, Jason looked up to her, “I don’t got money for this…”

Ms. Brivio reached out to him, and he was relieved when she only ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t worry, Jason. It’s all taken care of.”

She had him introduce himself to one of the cafeteria attendants, and after she wrote something down on her clipboard, Jason walked away with his tray of food. 

The pair found a table to sit at and Ms. Brivio checked her watch. 

“Alright, Jason, class starts soon, so eat your breakfast, and I’ll walk with you to the classroom.”

She looked over to him, and her smile faltered as she noticed a tear slide down his cheek. “Oh honey, what’s the matter?”

Jason pushed the food away with his good hand. “It’s not mine.”

Ms. Brivio pulled him close, and he let her, as he began to sob softly, “It’s not mine…”

She pulled away, and wiped his face with a napkin, “It is yours, Jason. Any meal you have here is yours. It’s okay.”

When he didn’t move, she opened the carton of milk, peeled the orange, and placed them in front of him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know there’s a lot of new things happening today, but it’s okay, alright? I’ll be with you, and I’ll take care of you.”

Jason’s chest tensed, but he nodded softly.

Ms. Brivio smiled. “Good. Now, eat your breakfast, and we’ll get started.”

Jason nodded again, and began to eat his breakfast.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

School was more than Jason had hoped for.

He wanted to know more about everything they discussed in class. 

Jason had seen letters and numbers before, and right off the bat, he could recognize a few. When they looked through books, he was amazed how quickly Ms. Brivio could read and told her that he wanted to do that too. She told him that he would be able to, if he worked hard.

The most difficult part of school, Jason found, was the other kids, who he avoided if he could. He was bigger and older than most of them; some by a year, others by two. 

A few of the kids tried to play with him, but he distanced himself.

There was so much about the first day that he loved, and he was disappointed when they packed up to go home.

Ms. Brivio saw the kids off, and Jason was relieved to see Willis had come to pick him up. As the two adults talked for a bit, one of Jason’s classmates waved goodbye, and Jason waved back shyly.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Ms. Brivio, smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jason.”

“Bye, Ms. Brivio,” Jason said softly.

“Come on,” Willis called out, and Jason followed hurriedly behind him.

Even the walk home was nice. 

Jason talked at his dad, who didn’t say much, but he let Jason go on about what he had done that day. 

When they got back, Jason ran upstairs and eagerly got started on his homework. 

It seemed like hours before Jason was called down for dinner, but even as he ate his measly sandwich, he was thinking about his letters again. As soon as he was done, he went back to his room, and worked some more, filling pages of his notebook with the letters and numbers he had learned that day.

By the time the night had settled in, Jason felt the exhaustion from the day, and was ready to sleep. 

He curled up, holding his arm to himself, and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

School only got better, the more Jason went.

Willis continued to take Jason, as he said he would, and Jason soaked up everything he learned. Jason still found it hard to play with the other kids, but found himself doing it more often so he could join in the games.

He couldn’t do some of them, since his arm was still in a cast, but sometimes he’d push a little and try anyway, until he’d get caught by the gym teacher and be given something less strenuous to do.

At lunch, he’d collect the food that his classmates didn’t want and stored it in his backpack for safe keeping. Soon, he had a small stash that he could fall back on if his parents didn’t bring food home with them. 

It was a good system, until one of the other kids took some of Jason’s food. 

It hadn’t been offered, as Jason always held onto food, no matter what it might be. It was only a snack cake, but it was _Jason’s_ snack cake.

When the boy refused to give it back, Jason screamed, grabbed the boy’s tray with his good hand, and smashed it across his face, eliciting screams from the rest of his classmates.

After it happened, Jason was sat down and his parents were called. It took three calls until the administration could reach his dad. 

When Willis finally made it to the school, Jason _knew_ he was in trouble. They walked home in silence, and Jason entertained the idea of running away before they could reach the house. 

He couldn’t bring himself to.

Once they were inside, Willis slammed the door behind him and turned on Jason. “What the hell were you thinkin’?”

Jason’s eyes snapped to the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“‘Sorry’? I don’t give a _shit_ if you’re _sorry_. When you fuck up there, you’re making trouble for _me_.”

Jason nodded and swallowed hard, heart beating fiercely in his chest.

Willis kicked the table over and continued, “You think I’m doin’ nothin’, just waiting to leave and pick your sorry ass up? Huh?”

Jason quickly scurried over to the corner and crouched, looking up in terror as his father advanced on him. “Dad, please, I’m sorry--”

Willis lunged forward and grabbed Jason by the collar of his school shirt, lifting his small body with hardly any effort, before slamming it against the wall. 

Jason shrieked as the cast rattled around his arm, sending a shooting pain through the fractured bone. Tears spilled down his cheeks, and as soon as his dad let him go, Jason crumpled to the ground, sobbing.

“I can’t provide if you’re fucking everything up. Don’t let this happen again,” Willis murmured coldly. He turned and left Jason crying on the floor.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After that, Jason withdrew from the other kids even further, focusing solely on his classwork.

He figured it was better to catch up then make friends, anyway. 

The first year of school went too fast for Jason’s liking, but he was glad when he finally got his arm out of the cast.

Ms. Brivio gave him a hug on the last day and wished him a happy summer. He hoped for one, but wasn’t expecting it.

He couldn’t understand why the other kids were so excited about breaks from school. For him, it meant less food and more time with his parents. Breaks were excruciating for him.

All he wanted was to be out of that house.

Jason had made impressive strides in learning, but he was nowhere near able to read on his own. He was stuck for the duration of summer break, to his dismay. 

He longed for the start of school.

When autumn finally came around again, the new year began and Jason was moved to a new room, with a new teacher. He was disappointed at first, but got used to it quickly as they started their lessons.

It was always easier to adapt when he had a goal to focus on. 

With not much else going on at home, Jason focused almost entirely on his classwork, and soon, he was able to start reading a few words here and there. But he was determined to learn more. 

Every week, he’d have a little more knowledge under his belt, and that increased exponentially once he began to read. 

After that, Jason began to tackle more on his own, and started to catch up.

By the time he was eleven, he was placed with kids his own age, and was back on track.

Much like his first year, Jason avoided contact with others. The only people he saw outside of his family were Ms. Brivio, occasionally, and Francesco, whose visits grew increasingly rare.

Once Francesco stopped coming around, Willis stopped walking Jason to school. By then, Jason knew the way and didn’t need his father’s company.

He also got used to coming home to his parents in their living room, strung out on whatever they could get their hands on. On those nights, he’d head straight up to his room, do his homework, and eat his school leftovers.

One day, Jason returned to the sound of wailing, and he uncertainly crept to the living room, where his mother lay on the ground, covering her face.

“--Mom?”

Cathy looked up, startled, then she shook her head and kept crying.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Jason asked, shifting the worn backpack to his other shoulder as he crouched next to her.

Through her sobs, she shakily managed to mumble, “Willis…”

A chill shot through Jason’s veins, and he gently took hold of his mother’s shoulder. “Mom. What happened?”

“He hasn’t come back. Something’s wrong,” she gasped, pulling away from Jason’s touch and sitting up.

He stood and moved to the mantle where his father kept his revolver. 

It wasn’t there.

Jason exhaled harshly, then turned to his mom. “What do we do?”

Cathy shrugged wildly and gave Jason a look of irritation. “I dunno. He was supposed to be back this mornin’.”

Jason’s stomach twisted. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.

Cathy moaned and ran a hand through her hair. “I swear ta’ god, if he got hurt…”

Jason could think of worse things in the world, but didn’t tell his mother as much. Instead, he took off his backpack and took a deep breath. “Where was he supposed to be? I can go look.”

“Runnin’ an errand for Beck. Could be anywhere.”

“I’ll go see Beck, then. He might know.”

Cathy didn’t acknowledge him, and instead, continued to cry. Jason felt a flash of anger, then turned and left. 

He couldn’t stand to listen to her anymore.

It was late November in Gotham, and Jason’s coat was barely enough to keep him warm against the cold, but he tugged it as close to his body as he could and set out toward Beck’s shop. 

Every person he passed hurried along. No one wanted to be out and Jason couldn’t blame them; he didn’t want to be out either.

As he approached the store, Jason noticed that none of the neon signs out front were lit. Something was definitely off.

Jason peeked through the windows and tried all the doors, but had no luck. He knew he could spend hours canvassing the city, but with no heading, he would just be wandering aimlessly. 

Jason had no interest in freezing on his father’s behalf. 

Their home at least managed a little bit of warmth with the excess heat from the buildings above it, and Jason was already eager to get out of the cold.

When he got back, he found his mother where he had left her. 

Whether she was exhausted from worry, or just on something, Jason couldn’t tell. At least she had finally calmed down. She didn’t move when Jason shut the door behind him, so he headed upstairs and decided to make a meal from his stash and work on homework. 

There wasn’t much else he could do at that point, anyway. His parents made it _very_ clear that he couldn’t go to the cops for anything. He’d have to wait for his mom to sober up, or his father to walk through the door.

Or be dragged in.

Jason had nestled up on his ratty mattress and was barely asleep, when a commotion of yelling and slamming arose from downstairs.

Jason sprang up from his bed, flying to the top of the stairs. He could hear several voices from the living room, including his mother’s. She didn’t sound like she was trying to ward anyone off, so Jason ventured down.

In the living room, Beck, Cathy, and a couple men Jason didn’t recognize were hovering over the couch. 

Jason had a guess what they were looking at, but got closer to investigate, catching the end of what Beck was saying, “--just got out of there. He’s in bad shape, but it could’a been a lot worse, Cathy. A _lot_ worse.”

Willis was passed out on the couch, pale and clammy looking, with his knee wrapped in a makeshift tourniquet. Blood had already completely soaked through the fabric, but only at that one spot. 

“What happened?” Jason asked, looking over his father’s unconscious form.

Beck cast a glance over to Jason. “He was workin’ for me and it got a little messy. Don’t worry, kid. He’ll be fine, but we gotta get him patched up.”

Jason’s brow furrowed and he nodded in acknowledgement, but was far from worried. In fact, he felt-- _disappointed_.

As the men worked, Jason moved out of the way, watching and waiting to see if he’d be called upon. When he wasn’t, he slipped away and went up to his room. 

If they really needed him, they knew where to find him.

Jason rearranged his blankets and burrowed into them, shivering a little as he got acclimated. Slowly, his hand slid down to his knee, feeling the bone there absentmindedly. It was going to be hard for his dad to get around. 

_Damn._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jason got ready for school as he always did, and was relieved when no one stopped him as he left the house.

At school, he kept thinking about his father’s injury, and what it meant for the family. His mom would sometimes bring food back after she was out meeting with her dealer and had some extra cash. 

When all the other kids were done with lunch, Jason hung back to check the trash for any unopened containers, but had no luck.

After school, he brainstormed places he could hang out to avoid going home. Winter seemed to be coming early to Gotham, and Jason didn’t want to linger outside. 

He figured it was best to just go home and see what was waiting there for him.

Jason took a deep breath before going inside, and when he did, he saw both his parents in the living room. Their attention shifted to Jason when he entered. 

“C’mere,” Willis demanded, though his voice sounded frail and softer than normal.

Jason obeyed, and walked around the couch to face his father. He realized that they must have changed Willis’ bandages recently, as they were stark white, instead of the deep red they had been the night before. It looked like someone had scrubbed the couch, but there was a visible stain from Willis’ blood. 

“You’re going to have to start providing for this family,” Willis muttered, straining to focus on Jason.

Jason had expected as much. He nodded, then tentatively asked, “How do I do that?”

“However you can,” Willis replied simply.

Jason swallowed hard. “I can’t get a job…”

Willis waved him off, and Jason turned to his mother, who looked away from him. Willis spoke again. “Jobs are only worth it if you can make a ton of cash, _fast_. There are other ways.”

Jason frowned. “You mean stealing, don’t you?”

Willis let out a humorless laugh, and waved Jason over. Jason approached, and stumbled forward as his father grabbed the collar of his shirt.

“If you want to keep livin’-,” Willis rasped, “-you gotta take what you want. People ain’t gonna drop shit at your feet forever. You’ve been lucky with your mom an’ me.”

Willis let go, and Jason pulled away, frowning, but nodding in acknowledgement.

“Good,” Willis muttered, turning his head from Jason. “Now, get outta’ here, and get us somethin’ to eat.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On the walk to the nearest convenience store, Jason formulated a plan.

He had never stolen anything before, and felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. At school, they talked about doing bad things, like taking something that wasn’t yours. Jason knew his father did it all the time, but it was just to make sure their family stayed fed. 

Jason didn’t want to be a bad person, but his family was depending on _him_ now. And for better or for worse, they were all he had.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the corner, meeting a flood of black and gold. 

Knights fans crowded the street on the way to the game. Families and friends wearing jerseys filled the street, as did the normal foot traffic.

Jason wove around people, following a family that made their way to the cornershop drug store. He moved along with them, trying to blend in, despite the fact that he was still in his school clothes and didn’t match.

As soon as their group was inside and out of the employee’s line of sight, Jason split away from them, swinging his backpack to hang from his shoulder. 

He nonchalantly made his way to the back, where there was a small “grab-n-go” section, and after doing another scan, he quickly filled his bag with sandwiches, bottled drinks, chips, and whatever else he could fit. 

Heart pounding, and stomach churning, Jason zipped up his pack, and sought out the family, straggling behind, so he didn’t catch their attention any more than the shopkeeper’s.

The kids argued over what snacks they wanted, while Jason stepped to the side, looking at the magazine rack. 

Once their father paid, and they all began to move to the exit, Jason slid out with them, while the next customer moved forward to pay for her purchases. 

A block or two away from the store, Jason cast one last look at the shop and his temporary family, and then slipped away into an alleyway.

He started running, and didn’t stop until he was home.

As he got in, Jason could barely see his father behind the back of the couch, hut his mother sat to the side, smoking a cigarette. 

Both of them turned to Jason, who stood in the entryway, gasping for breath.

“How’d you do?” Willis called from the couch, hidden from view.

Jason came around the side, sliding his backpack off and unzipping it. He pulled everything out, including the remains of his school food stash. If he was going to be a provider, he had to share _everything_.

Willis raised an eyebrow, while Cathy rushed forward, grabbing a sandwich and handing it to him. She returned to the pile, rummaging through the contents, and muttered, “Not a bad haul. This’ll be fine for t’morrow.”

“You did good,” Willis said, nodding to Jason. “A natural, aren’t ya?”

Jason swallowed hard, not saying anything.

Neither of his parents seemed to notice, so Jason grabbed one of the sandwiches and went upstairs to his room.

His heart had finally settled down, but he still felt queasy as he dropped to his pile of blankets, even as his stomach growled. He looked at the wrapped sandwich in his hand and felt his stomach twist again.

Taking a shaky breath, Jason gave up and placed the sandwich to the side, trying to turn his attention to homework.

Later, as he settled down to sleep, his dinner remained untouched.

More often than not, he ate stolen food, but something was different about this. 

Jason stared at the wrapper until he fell asleep, all the while asking himself if he was going to end up like his father.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added a couple new tags for this chapter for anyone who wants to double check, but other than that, here's some more of Jason's rough, rough life.

With Willis out of commission, Jason took on the responsibility of school and feeding his family regularly. Sometimes, Jason could bring home enough school food that he didn’t have to go out, but often, Jason had to get creative. 

He quickly learned that he couldn’t hit the same store too often, otherwise he’d start drawing attention. If it was a busy enough night, Jason could snag a take-out order or two, before the owner claimed it. 

The first time someone stopped him, he lied on the spot, saying that his mom had sent him to pick up dinner, since she was sick. Jason easily left with the bag in hand, and guilt in the pit of his stomach.

The shame eventually began to ebb, but never went away, not fully. It was what he had to do if he wanted to survive. He knew that.

Willis’ recovery was set back another month or so, after he tried to move prematurely. Jason spent his winter break gathering supplies for his family.

With the holiday season upon Gotham, there was a bounty of toys and chocolates, and Jason knew he didn’t _need_ any of it, but was so enamored with the bright, colorful displays. He slid a few candy bars into his bag, as well as a chocolate Santa. The store clerks wished him a merry Christmas on his way out, and he repeated it back to them, excitedly. 

It was stolen, but it was Jason’s first Christmas gift, and he was excited as any kid could be.

Christmas week, the temperature in Gotham plummeted. Jason’s pile of blankets weren’t quite enough to keep him warm at night, and his coat was a little too thin for comfort. 

On Christmas Eve, Jason made his way into the city, looking for dinner. He passed an old-looking stone church, and paused as he saw warm light coming from the windows. His feet carried him up the stairs and through the doorway, where he was met with warmth and the soft scent of pine and cinnamon. 

To the side there was a small reception area, with a wall full of coats. Jason rubbed his hands, and peered through a window that looked into the chapel. The pews were filled with people, crowded next to each other, singing hymns that echoed off the ceiling.

The sight made Jason swallow hard. He couldn’t be sure if it was nerves or something else.

Once he was sure the coast was clear, he rummaged through the coats, finding a few wallets with cash in them, as well as a coat that was just about his size, just a little large. He frowned as he struggled with the sleeves that were much too long, but the coat was lined with a thick, plush material that made Jason feel warm for the first time that evening. 

The church suddenly grew quiet, and in a moment of panic, Jason realized the service was ending. He quickly made his way to the large double doors, as he heard another song began. Relief flooded over him, as he cast a glance toward the windows once more. 

He didn’t know the tune, but there was something so peaceful in the swell of voices, singing together.

_Silent night, holy night…_

Jason smiled to himself as he made his way out of the church, counting the money he had acquired, along with his new coat. It was enough to buy a full hot meal, and _then_ some.

Jason had to admit, the look of shock on his parents’ faces when he brought back a whole Christmas dinner made him laugh, and for once, his parents laughed along with him.

Willis was still stuck on the couch, but together, they gathered around their small living room, sharing the food that remained hot, despite the cold. It was the closest they had ever been as a family.

After they’d finished eating, Jason and his mom helped Willis to bed, which wasn’t an easy task. Once he was settled, Cathy walked Jason to the foot of the stairs, where he started to make the climb to his room.

At the top, he turned back to smile. “Night, mom.”

She didn’t return the smile, but instead offered a quiet, “Night, Jay.”

Jason arranged his blankets and pillows, and put on his new coat, settling down to sleep. 

It was turning out to be the best Christmas Jason ever had.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hours after their Christmas Eve meal, Jason felt like he had hardly slept when he heard a thump outside his room. The sound made him stir, but he didn’t sit up until it got louder and closer.

At that point, his eyes flew open, and he could tell it was still dark out. He looked to the door, wondering what the sound was, when there were a series of slow, but insistent knocks. Jason sprung up and cautiously opened the door, seeing his mom on the ground, wrapped in a blanket, and gently swaying where she sat.

Cathy looked up to Jason, smiling. “Hey there. Got room for one more?”

Jason glanced around the landing, not sure what was happening, and still waking up. He nodded and moved to the side, helping her into his room.

“Are you okay?” he asked tentatively, guiding her over to the blankets, where she collapsed and laughed wildly. 

She rolled over and gestured for Jason to get closer, her head slowly swinging side to side. As he moved toward her, she lunged forward, wrapping her blanket around him.

Jason struggled and tried to get away from the attack, but stopped when she started laughing again. 

“C’mon, don’t be like that, Will…”

Jason froze in place and felt his stomach flip. He had heard her clearly, but had no idea what it meant.

“Mom- I’m not- It’s _me_. I’m _Jason_.”

Cathy looked at him, but Jason felt like she couldn’t _see_ him. She laughed, a little softer, and her head rolled to her shoulder. “What’s’it, now?”

“I’m Jason,” he breathed shakily. “Your son.”

Cathy gave him an incredulous look, then sighed harshly. “‘Course ya are.”

She grabbed Jason’s arm, and pulled him to her chest, cupping his face gently. Jason tensed, and pulled away, frowning up at her. 

It had taken him a while, but Jason was starting to understand what was wrong; the sluggishness, disorientation, and her posture. She was on something.

When she saw his face, her expression softened, and she pushed the hair from his eyes, smiling. “You’re gonna be real handsome when you get older. Just like your dad…”

Jason started to pull away again, but she kept a firm grip on him, wrapping her blanket around the two of them. 

The added warmth was nice, but Jason couldn’t think of the last time his mother had touched him without striking him.

His stomach continued to turn, but soon, she was shushing him, and petting his hair softly. It was strange, but soon, Jason gave in and when he moved to cuddle up to her, she allowed it.

Surrounded by warmth and comfort, Jason drifted back to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Jason woke the next morning, his mom was already gone. The only sign that she had been there was the blanket she had brought up with her.

Jason absentmindedly ran his fingers over the knitted pink and white zigzags, thinking about what had happened.

Once he was fully awake, he tucked the blanket under his arm and made his way downstairs. He saw his mom smoking a cigarette on the porch, and went outside to join her.

“Here,” Jason mumbled, offering the blanket to her.

She gave him a questioning look, but took the blanket and wrapped it around herself. He waited for her to say something about the night before, but all she said was, “It’s freezin’ out here.”

Jason nodded in agreement, then the two of them fell silent.

Eventually, Cathy made her way back inside, Jason trailing behind. She made her way to the room that she and Willis shared, and closed the door behind her. 

They never did talk about that night.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jason was relieved when his winter break ended. Being back at school gave him something to look forward to, and helped pass the time until his dad’s knee was healed.

Once he was up and moving, Willis took over their food supply again, much to Jason’s relief. Jason had gotten quite skilled at stealing, but he was interested in more promising things.

For a class assignment, Jason and his peers went on a field trip to one of the largest libraries in Gotham. Jason had passed by it before, hundreds of times, but hadn’t realized its potential until he stood among its aisles of bookshelves. 

They only spent an hour there for class, but Jason made numerous return trips once he found out that borrowing a book was free; as long as you returned it in a timely manner.  
Jason quickly became a regular, and even befriended some of the librarians, who would make recommendations for his reading level, as well as a few challenging selections.

School came to an end, but the library was an incredible new outlet to keep him busy over the summer. 

Some days, he’d pick a table and stay until they closed. Other days, he’d take his stack of books with him, and go to the church he had visited on Christmas Eve. As it turned out, the doors were almost always open, and it was easy for him to sneak up the large stone stairs that lead to the roof. 

The first time he ventured up there, he found a walkway, with dozens of sculpted granite statues. There was a trio of angels reaching up to the sky, hands clasped together, but the rest were gargoyles, looking out to the city. 

Jason easily hopped the railing and found a gargoyle to settle underneath and was amazed how much he could see. 

A gentle, fresh breeze swept up to Jason, and he inhaled deeply. His chest felt light, but filled with contentment.

Once he decided he could safely sit on the platform beneath the statue, he pulled out a book and began to read.

Many days of Jason’s summer were spent on that roof, as he read through countless adventures and literary classics. Jason didn’t always understand what they meant, but he found them interesting anyway, even when some were quite boring.

The more time Jason could spend out of the house, the happier he was. As always, his parents didn’t mind, so he could come and go as he pleased. It was a satisfying taste of freedom.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

For the first time in his life, Jason was disappointed when he realized his break was nearly over. He had made his way through a good portion of books, but there was still so much more he wanted to work through.

It was getting late, and the librarians started to close up, so Jason grabbed a handful of books to take home with him, and wished everyone a good night.

Jason began reading a new book on the way home, and was already invested in it by the time he got back. He started to beeline to his room, when Willis called out from the living room. 

Jason hesitated, but figured he should just get it over with.

“What’s up?” Jason muttered flatly.

“I got something good,” Willis replied, waving Jason over. Willis sat next to Cathy, and held a bottle of alcohol in his hand. It was already a third of the way gone, and Cathy was laying on Willis, with her eyes closed. Jason could smell the booze on them.

Before Jason could ask what this was about, Willis passed the bottle to Jason and boomed, “Drink!”

Jason closed his book and held it against him, taking the bottle from his father. He winced at the smell and looked back to Willis. “What for?”

Willis scoffed. “Just drink it, c’mon.”

Jason didn’t care for the smell of the drink and he knew alcohol wasn’t really for kids, but his father was looking at him expectantly, so Jason took a swig and cringed. 

“That’s awful!” Jason exclaimed before he could stop himself.

Willis let out a barking laugh. “You don’t really drink it for the taste, unless it’s the good stuff.”

“How can you tell?” Jason asked, looking at the label. 

Willis shrugged. “I dunno. Some fancy asshole says it’s good, so it’s good. Take another drink.”

Jason scrunched his face up, “It tastes gross.”

“Drink some more and give it a minute,” Willis suggested again, firmly.

It was rare that Willis was invested in anything Jason did, and Jason hated how quick he was to jump for his father’s approval, but the comfortable warmth in his chest was hard to ignore. 

Tentatively, Jason took another drink, which was no more pleasant than the first.

Jason sat down next to Willis, and they began to pass the bottle back and forth. 

After a while, Jason could feel the world start to soften. It was easier to laugh and harder to feel nervous. 

And maybe it was just the drink, but Willis was actually tolerable for once.

At one point, Jason tried to stand, swayed on the spot, and crashed down onto the couch again. He was surprised and embarrassed by how much he’d been affected, but Willis began laughing, and Jason couldn’t help but join in. 

Cathy stirred and gave them a questioning look, but Willis stroked her hair and laughed again. “Jay’s trying whiskey and can’t hold it for shit.”

Jason stopped giggling and put on as serious of a face as he could. “I can hold it!”

Willis threw him a skeptical look. “Oh yeah? Try standing up.”

Jason puffed out his chest and stood up, legs wobbling beneath him as his head bobbed back and forth. Instead of falling onto the couch, Jason hit the ground, square on his tailbone. He cried out in pain, but his parents were laughing hysterically, so he started laughing too. 

Between the three of them, they got the bottle down to the last third, somehow ending up on the ground together.

It was nice, Jason thought to himself.

Willis offered the bottle to Jason, but Jason’s stomach was starting to hurt, and he really didn’t want to throw up in front of his parents.

To Jason’s relief, Cathy took the bottle and drank from it, gagging a little. 

She shook her head. “You really did pick the cheapest shit you could find, huh, Will?”

“Don’t see you picking up the tab, Cath,” Willis muttered, staring her down.

Cathy looked to him and shrugged. “Jus’ sayin’, if you’re gonna go through the trouble of swiping some booze, maybe you could actually get the good stuff?”

Jason’s stomach tensed as he watched the exchange.

Willis let out a humorless laugh. “Here we go again…”

Cathy narrowed her eyes. “It’s true! I’m jus’ sayin’-”

“‘Jus’ sayin’’! ‘Jus’ sayin’’!” Willis repeated in a shrill, mocking impression of his wife. His voice dropped down to his regular register and he laughed in her face as he spoke. “Maybe you should just shut the fuck up, huh?” 

Cathy pursed her lips and put the cap back on the bottle, wobbling as she stood. 

“Where’re you goin’?” Willis asked, giving her an incredulous look. 

“I don’t have’ta take this from you,” Cathy shot back, walking toward their room.

Jason tucked into the corner, away from them, when Willis stumbled to get up and follow her. 

“Get back here! Don’t be a bitch, Cath...”

“A _bitch_?” Cathy snarled, as she whirled around. “We can’t have a goddamn drink without you turnin’ into a fuckin’ asshole!”

Willis advanced on her quickly, his voice turning cold. “We were havin’ a good time ‘til you started bitchin’! I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear it!”

Cathy shrieked at Willis before tossing the bottle at him. He dodged, and miraculously, the bottle bounced from the ratty couch to the ground, without breaking. 

The second Cathy knew she missed, she turned to run, but Willis grabbed her arm and slapped her hard across the face. He took hold of her shoulders, shaking roughly as she cried out. 

At that point, Jason felt something inside him churn, and he rushed forward to slam his shoulder into his dad’s side, screaming, “Get off her!”

The impact was enough to push Willis off balance, but Jason stumbled back too. He couldn’t catch himself, so he toppled to the ground, landing on his other shoulder. 

Jason gritted his teeth and tried to sit up, when a fist caught him square in the nose.

He screamed in pain, reaching up for his nose, but Willis batted his hands away and shoved him down to the ground, yelling, “Who the fuck do you think you are?!”

Jason’s arm was kicked out from under him as he tried to get up, and he fell back down. Willis continued, “I provide, and _provide_ , and all you two do is fuck it up!”

Jason was starting to feel dizzy as blood trickled down his face. In in haze, he could see his mom slumped against the wall, trying to crawl away. 

Willis turned back to her, but Jason lunged forward and grabbed ahold of his foot, pulling him back.

“No!” Jason cried out, “ _Stop!_ ”

“Shut the fuck up!” Willis roared, kicking Jason squarely in the chest. Jason’s head slammed against the ground, and he moaned, unable to move. 

Willis stood over Jason and growled down at him. “I’ve given you _so_ much. And you _still_ act like this?”

Jason tried to roll over, as he let out a sob, but Willis’ foot pushed him back.

“You know, when you were born, you were such-” Willis laughed harshly, “-such a _loser_. We couldn’t _give_ you away.”

Jason moaned softly, looking for his mom. He caught her eye, but she turned away and crawled toward the room. Jason’s heart twisted and he cried out again, then Willis nudged Jason’s face with his boot. 

“You listenin’ to me?” You’ve always been a loser. And you’re always gonna _be_ a loser.”

With that, Willis stomped his foot down on Jason’s stomach, and Jason could do nothing but vomit on himself. 

The bedroom door slammed, and Willis whipped around to pound on the door and scream at Cathy. Jason was disoriented and in pain, but knew he didn’t have long to get out of the house. 

Steadily, Jason dragged himself up and he made his way back to the corner, collecting his backpack, book, and after a split second of debate, the bottle of whiskey. He shoved everything in his bag, and tucked a blanket under his arm. 

Willis was still screaming his usual threats and slurs through the door, so Jason slipped out the front door and started running as fast as he could. 

Once the adrenaline began to fade, Jason became aware how empty his stomach was. The only things open were bars and clubs, and it wasn’t the type of place Jason wanted to be at the moment. 

He cut down an alleyway that took him in the direction of the old stone church, and grabbed a broken piece of shelving from the ground. Once he turned the corner, he saw the row of small shops he always passed, just short of the church. 

Walking down the street, Jason sought out the bakery, then smashed the glass panel of the front door. He let himself in, grabbed a few loaves of bread from the shelves, then exited quickly to continue forward.

The front doors of the church were locked, but Jason snuck around the side and was able to get in through what must have been a maintenance entrance. From there, he set about finding himself something to change into, cleaned up in the bathroom, and slipped into the sanctuary. 

All the lights were out, but moonlight poured through the stained glass windows, casting the pews in various tones of green, blue, and gold. 

Jason found a bench to settle in and finally was able to draw a full breath. After a moment of rest, he started to work on one of the bagged breads. 

As he chewed, his gaze drifted up to the statue at the front of the church. Like the pieces on the roof, the man was cut from granite, but he was mounted on a wooden cross. Jason didn’t understand what it meant, but he found it interesting. Also a little unsettling.

He ate until his stomach started to hurt, then laid down to try to get some sleep. The pews weren’t terribly comfortable, and Jason had endured a long, stressful night, so he found sleep to be quite elusive. 

Jason looked over to his pack and moved to pull the whiskey from it. He caught sight of the figure at the front of the sanctuary again, and quickly looked away, taking a drink from the bottle.

When he laid back down, he could feel the warmth creeping through him again, though this time, it was offset by aches and pain. 

Jason curled up with his blanket and let out a shaky sigh. He finally started to drift off to sleep when a thought unfolded in his mind, as if it had always been there.

If Jason’s life was going to change, he would have to be the one to do it.


End file.
